A Sudden Interest in Pigs
by Loveedith
Summary: Series 4 and CS 2013 spoiler warning *** Anthony feels he has given Edith back her life. Edith feels she has taken charge of it herself by bringing her little girl home to Downton. She is quite sure that no one suspects a thing.
1. An Interest in Pigs

"I'm going down to see Tim Drewe today", Edith said at the breakfast table. "I'm writing an article about pigs."

Robert looked up from his newspaper. Edith seemed to be much happier now, though nothing more had been heard from Gregson. She was smiling more, perhaps those months in Switzerland had done her good. Though he hadn't really noticed that her mode had improved until after she had gone there the second time.

She wasn't as restless as she had been earlier, running up to London all the time. She seemed much more content with the quiet life at Downton. And she had written quite a few articles about agriculture and the running of estates.

...

"Where is Edith?" Cora asked an hour later. "I want her to help me with some charity work I'm planning."

"She said she would go down to tenant Drewe", Robert said. "Apparently she wants to write an article about pigs."

"Pigs?" Mary exclaimed. "Why on earth! I thought she was writing for a women's magazine."

"She is always hanging around there", Cora said thoughtfully. "Where did she get that sudden interest in pigs?"

So Cora decided to find out.

...

Sir Anthony Strallan sat in his library, reading the Sketch. He had saved the best part. He always did that, ending his reading with Lady Edith's column, before he cut it out and placed it in a drawer.

This time she was writing about the necessary ways to keep up agriculture and food production in the country. With a smile he remembered the young girl who had asked him across the table on that dinner if he would show her his new harvester. He had found her remarkably clever already then.

That first impression had been right, of course. But he didn't fall in love with her then, that had come later. But her intelligence and her many interests had been important when he did fall in love with her. He had dreamt about being able to discuss almost everything with her. And of laughing with her, they shared the same sence of humour.

He had given her up, and the rest of the world had profited from that. All he had left of her now was her articles.

Her columns were brilliant, there was no other word for it. They were full of interesting insights, well researched and funny. He always smiled when he read them, even laughed a couple of times, but he also learnt something, at least from most of them. Next week's article would be about pigs, it said. He was looking forward to what she could make of that. Make of them, he thought with a smile.

Sir Anthony Strallan felt a sudden interest in pigs.

...

AN: Thank you for reading! Please comment if you like!

...

I have seen the Christmas Special now, and I'm happy! Edith is going to get her baby back. She stood up for herself and her child. And she had the chance to breastfeed it, the little one has memories of her mother's soothing voice!

It must be horrible to give away a child. Especially for a person like Edith, who doesn't believe her parents truly love her. Even if she would get other children later on she would always have felt bad about giving this one away, she would have felt she had let the little one down.


	2. Thinking about Pigs

Reading Lady Edith's article had, as usual, made Sir Anthony pleased with himself. Because when he read them he was certain that he had done the right thing in letting her go. By leaving her there at the altar, he had made her sad for the moment, of course, it was inevitable. But in the long run it had obviously been good for her.

He had given her back her life.

As always he lingered when he put the new article into the drawer. He picked up a few of the older ones, read some sentences at random, smiled at some of the things she had written. He almost knew all her articles by heart, he had read each one of them at least five times.

There were some things in her columns, especially the first ones for the Sketch, that he felt she had written directly to him.

There was a column about injured soldiers where he felt that she was arguing with him, as she had done so often in the past. She wrote _I think all you wounded soldiers ought to wear your injuries proudly, like medals. After all, those are the marks to show you have served your country well. _

When Anthony first read those words he felt uneasy. How could a useless arm be something to be proud of? But reading it through a couple of times more, he actually felt soothed by it. He thought that she was wrong, a useless limb was a useless limb, but he was glad that she at least pretended that it was something more and different.

Another column, about how women's wear had changed over the years, also felt like it was written directly for him. _I'm sure that the husband, who was perhaps wounded in the war, is relieved by how much easier to take off his wife's garments have become. _Was she flirting with him? Making him think about taking her clothes off? At least she had managed to make him blush!

And now Edith was going to write about pigs! Could that have something to do with him also? He remembered showing her Locksley's pigs when they were courting, just like he had showed her all the other things at the estate. He had been quite proud of showing off the well-fed animals to Edith, who had been as wide-eyed and interested as usual. She had admired the fat pigs and managed to come up with quite a few intelligent questions about them.

He was quite looking forward to next weeks column.

But then again, he was always looking forward to that.

...

The happiest moment in Edith's life, at least the happiest yet, was when she came back to the Schröders and saw her little girl again. Because the little one gave her a big toothless smile. Perhaps she remembered her mother, perhaps she was smiling at everyone she met, but Edith didn't care. She had her baby back, she held her in her arms, and she realised how incomplete she had felt without it.

The umbilical cord had been cut off long ago, but the bands were still strong between mother and child. She was so happy that she had only agreed to let her baby be placed temporarily in Geneva. She had refused to sign any adoption papers.

Many bad things had happened in Edith's life. Many men had abandoned her or just disappeared. But when she was holding her baby in her arms again, she realised that nothing but this really mattered. What did she care about men when she had her baby? She was so happy that Tom had told her to fight her corner!

Now she had to see to it that she would be able to visit her baby as often as possible, once they got home. She had better pretend that she was interested in things going on out on the farm. Pretend - no she wouldn't have to do that, once she was researching something she always got interested in it. Which was probably what made her column so succesful.

Besides, she had always been interested in agriculture, growing up in the country as she was. Her father had never cared about her opinions, but Sir Anthony had... No, she shouldn't think about _him_! He wasn't worth it, not after what he had done to her.

If she made it a mixture of serious and funny she could perhaps write a series of articles about agriculture? Producing food for the population was an important subject.

Perhaps she could even write an article about pigs?

...

AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you for commenting!

I know the story is a little bit silly, at least the title is, but I wanted to write something happy.

...

This is a rather unusual take on Sir Anthony, but I don't find it out of character. This is the Sir Anthony of the library scene in CS 2011, the Sir Anthony who insists that Edith shall give up on him. Here he is feeling quite a bit smug about managing to get her to do just that.

...

I'm happy about what happened in the CS for many reasons (since you wondered). First of all there were many sweet moments for other characters. (Carson/Hughes! Patmore/Daisy!)

Sir Anthony didn't come back, but I have never expected him to do that, not after 3:3.

I'm also happy that Edith will be able to see her daughter grow up. Of course I know there will be complications, but that will give more Edith/baby-times, I hope.

The biggest reason to be happy is that we now have more than half a year to write what we like without being disturbed by anything new that happens on screen.


	3. Visiting Pigs

Edith was full of happy anticipation as she went over to Drewe's farm that morning, just like she was every time she went to see little Alice, her baby daughter.

They had arranged for Edith to be able to see her daughter at least three times a week, often more. Edith went to see Drewe to discuss farming for her articles, and Drewe always brought the child with him, while he showed Edith different things on the farm. He had told his wife that Lady Edith was fond of the orphan. All this would be more difficult when the girl grew older, of course, but right now there was no risk that little Alice would tell their secret.

Mrs Drewe wasn't fooled at all, of course. Because little Alice grew more and more like her mother for every day that went by.

Mrs Drewe took good care of the lovely little Crawley child and never let out to her husband that she knew he was lying to her. He had probably promised Lady Edith to keep quiet about this, and as a good wife she accepted that. She knew it was an honour for her and her husband to be allowed to take care of one of Lord Grantham's grandchildren, even if Lord Grantham himself probably didn't know that the child existed.

Edith hoped that this would only be temporary. When the girl grew older Edith was sure that she would find a way to make it possible for her to take care of her daughter herself. She couldn't bear the thought that little Alice would feel neglected and unloved by her mother. Because Edith loved her daughter with a feeling that was deeper than anything else she had experienced before in her life. There was simply nothing that could compare to it.

Edith had loved Cousin Patrick, she had loved Sir Anthony and she had loved Michael Gregson. But none of them had ever been more important to Edith than she was herself.

But Alice was.

...

The only thing that worried Edith about the arrangement with the Drewes was that Mrs Drewe might perhaps think Edith wasn't interested in the pigs or the baby, but in Tim Drewe himself. Edith remembered how Mrs Drake's jealousy had forced Edith to stop working on their farm, and Tim Drewe was a far more attractive man than John Drake had ever been.

But the difference was of course that Mrs Drake had reason to be jealous but Mrs Drewe hadn't. Not that Edith had been in love with John Drake, certainly not, the beer had been a bit stronger than she had thought, and she had been curious about what it was like to kiss a man, since she had never done that.

She didn't really regret it, but she wished the wife hadn't seen it. She liked the job and she would never have kissed John Drake again, at least not as long as she was sober.

A kiss without love was like an egg without salt. It tasted of nothing.

Edith wished she could tell her secret to the nice Mrs Drewe, who took so good care of little Alice and was always very friendly to Edith. It would make things easier, and Edith needed someone to confide in, someone a little more understanding than her granny and Aunt Rosamund.

And if Mrs Drewe forbade her husband to see Edith then...

No, that was impossible to even think about.

...

Cora was wondering how to find out what it was that had suddenly made Edith so interested in staying at Downton. She hoped it wasn't a man. Or, more precisely, she hoped it wasn't Tim Drewe.

It would be a great scandal if Edith had fallen in love with a tenant, and the fact that he was married would make it many times worse.

Cora didn't really want to spy on her daughter. Perhaps she just ought to ask Edith what it was that kept her at Downton. Why she seemed so much happier, even though nothing new was heard from Gregson. Why she seemed to have lost interest in Gregson.

Cora decided to take a long walk on the premises. To go and pay a visit to Mrs Drewe. But not today, not when Edith was out there. It had to wait until another day.

...

When Sir Anthony Strallan had finished reading Edith's latest article, he decided to go and take a look at Locksley's pigs. There were quite a number of them, Locksley had a long history as a provider of first class pork and bacon. Anthony's father had been one of the founding members of the National Pig Breeders Association back in 1884. Little Anthony had never taken much interest in pigs, though. It was not until he inherited Locksley that Anthony realised how important pig-breeding was for the income of an estate, especially for a relatively small one like Locksley.

This fine morning, when Sir Anthony came to the pigsties, nobody was there. No human being, that is, the place was of course full of happily grunting animals. They were a pleasant sight, eating and growing, doing their utmost to make Sir Anthony's estate an economic success.

Sir Anthony stood there for some minutes, looking with a smile at the big boars, the fat sows and all the little piglets. Should he wait until the man in charge came around and have a word with him? But it wasn't really necessary, everything was in such good order. All the pigs looked healthy and happy.

Absent-mindedly Sir Anthony scratched one of the big boars behind its ear, earning a rather friendly look from the gigantic animal.

Anthony felt very peaceful. He had done the right thing when he set Edith free, and that made him feel rather proud of himself. He had made a sacrifice, but it had been for a good cause and that made it easier to live with. Now he had managed to reconcile himself to a lonely life. A life without a wife.

A life without Edith.

...

AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews!


	4. Memories of Pigs

Sir Anthony was still standing by the pigsties, lost in memories of pigs.

...

Locksley had a great tradition to live up to when it came to pigs.

Sir Anthony's father had been very interested in those animals. It wasn't his usual interest in everything that generated an important income for the estate. It was much more than that, more like an obsession. Sir Jonathan Strallan had taken an active part in the founding of The National Pig Breeders Association, dedicated to the improvement of the breed of swine in the UK. That had happened in 1884, the year when little Anthony celebrated his tenth birtday.

Anthony especially remembered a pig his father had been very proud of. She was called the Empress of Locksley and had been selected as 'Pig of the year' more than once.

Anthony's daddy had brought him with him to the exhibitions, trying to get his son interested in pigs. Anthony enjoyed the trips, he enjoyed being together with his dad and he enjoyed feeling that he was an important person, a big boy. When his dad taught him different things about pigs he did his best to listen and learn. But his heart wasn't in it.

Little Anthony frankly didn't like pigs at all. He had even been afraid of them. They were so much bigger than him and made so much noise.

There was a reason for his fear, of course, as there usually is. The reason had to do with another of Sir Jonathan's prize-winning pigs, a very big boar called Mr Brumble.

It had happened when Anthony was about six years old. He was climbing on the fence of Mr Brumble's sty, leaning in over it, jumping up and down, having just as many ants in his trousers as any other normal six-year-old.

Suddenly little Anthony fell over the fence and landed inside the sty.

Anthony was lying there in the mud, looking up at the boar, who was slowly getting closer. It was looking at little Anthony with something that the small boy interpreted as a very hungry smile. Little Anthony started yelling and crying desperately.

Then it was all over, just as quickly as it had started. Anthony's father grabbed a firm hold of his son's braces and lifted him back outside the pigsty again.

...

"Please don't tell your mother about this", Anthony's father said as he was trying - in vain - to get the mud off the boy's clothes.

"Why not?" little Anthony asked, looking at his father in astonishment. He had just been thinking of asking his father not to tell Mama about Anthony's unmanly behavior. He didn't want his mother to know that her big boy had been screaming like a little baby.

"She will make me sleep on the sofa for a week", his father muttered. He saw the surprised look in the boy's eyes and added. "Your mother loves me very much, as you know. But she loves you even more. She would never forgive me for letting anything bad happen to you."

The two of them had then sneaked into the house by a back door, managing to get Anthony a bath and some clean clothing without being noticed by his mother. The little boy had been very proud of sharing a secret with his father, but his fear of pigs had lasted for many years after that.

And it still happened at times that Mr Brumble appeared in Anthony's nightmares. The hog in his dreams was just as big compared to the grown up Anthony as it had been compared to the little boy at the time.

...

The train journey from Geneva back to Yorkshire with Alice had taken Edith more than three weeks. They had travelled alone, only the two of them, she hadn't dared to hire a nanny or a nurse to accompany them. Edith had taken care of her child herself, changing every diaper, fixing every bottle of gruel and feeding it to her daughter herself. It was hard to take care of a little baby onboard a train, so they had only been travelling during the daytime and only a few hours every day. Then Edith had got off the train and rented a hotel-room with a bath, having all her meals sent up to her room.

Those three weeks hadn't felt long at all, the time had just flewn away. Edith wished that this time together with Alice, just the two of them, could be stretched out forever. She never tired of being with her child, perhaps because she knew that the time that she could be that was so limited.

...

Why was life so complicated? Why couldn't she just have Alice growing up at Downton, together with Sybbie and George?

Yes, Edith had slept with a man, but so had her two sisters. So had every other mother she knew, including her own mother. So had Cousin Isobel. Even her Granny had done that, however unbelievable that seemed to Edith.

What difference did a ceremony in church really make? What was going on in bed was very much alike whether there had been a ceremony before it or not. Perhaps she ought to write a column about that, Edith thought. If she only could do it without giving too much away.

But what Edith herself thought about this didn't really matter. Everyone she knew thought there was a huge difference. Sleeping with one's husband was not at all the same as sleeping with somebody else's, as Edith had done. And in some ways she agreed with that. But hers was a special case, poor Michael had felt so alone, he had needed her so much... She had been so sorry for him. It just hadn't been possible to leave him that night.

She had to hide her child away or else she would cause a great scandal. Her mother would be utterly disappointed in her. Her father would shout at her and possibly throw her out of the house.

...

So Edith had to make do with the second best thing, having Alice living at Downton, but unknown to everyone in her family. She had to find a way to be able to see Alice often, though. A way for her to go to the Drewes without anyone suspecting anything.

Tim Drewe was in charge of the pigs. So Edith had better take an interest in pigs.

* * *

AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you so much for your nice reviews!

...

This is not a cross-over between Downton Abbey and Blandings Castle. But I read a lot of PG Wodehouse's books when I was a girl and I always liked the ones about Blandings best. So I couldn't resist naming Anthony's daddy's prize-winning sow the Empress of Locksley.

...

The National Pig Breeders Association was really founded in 1884. The first president of the association was the Earl of Ellesmere and there were many other noblemen among its members. But - of course - Sir Anthony's father wasn't one of them.

...

I know less about pigs than I know about the First World War, which I refrain from writing about because there are so many writers here that know so much about it. So, please feel free to point out any inaccuracies in my description of those lovely animals!


	5. Reading about Pigs

Sir Anthony was in an unusually good spirit, standing there by the pigsties. He felt at peace. Reading Lady Edith's columns always had that effect on him.

The happy grunting of the healthy pigs was music to his ears, but he knew that not many people felt that way. Most people just found them dirty and noisy.

He smiled at the thought of the pig-exhibitions he had been to with his father in his childhood. And the many prizes that his daddy's pigs had brought home.

Perhaps they should try it again, Sir Anthony thought. He had never bothered going to those events after becoming the owner of Locksley. He was paid just as much for his pedigree pigs anyway.

He could ask Argyll, the tenant who was in charge of Locksley's pigs, if he found it worthwhile. There were many beautiful pigs in the sties, many of them descendants to the Empress of Locksley or Mr Brumble. Or both of them.

...

Later, in his library, going through the post, Sir Anthony discovered that there would be an exhibition next month. He had been sent an invitation to that. It was held in another county, quite a bit away. But that was only good, it would make it much more unlikely that he bumped into people he knew.

He was absolutely sure that he wouldn't risk running into Lady Edith or anyone else of the Crawleys there. Downton had never been into pig-breeding. The Earls had probably found it beneath them. Pigs, as lovely as they were, were not the most dignified of animals.

Anthony would like a little outing. He spent far too much time alone at Locksley.

...

"The pig is one of our most useful domestic animals. It can eat both vegetarian and animal matter, which means that plenty of refuse from the kitchens, the fields and the factories can be transformed into a particularly valuable nutrient for human beings by being fed to the aforementioned animal..."

Edith sighed. She was reading from the entry about pig breeding in the new encyclopedia that her father had bought for the library at Downton.

This was the only text about pigs in the whole of Downton's library. There were no books about them, neither her father nor her grandfather had ever taken any interest in pigs.

Edith knew another library, not very far away, where there were at least a dozen volumes about pigs and pig breeding on the shelves. But that library was of course off limit for her after all that had happened. She couldn't well turn up on Sir Anthony's doorstep and ask him if she could borrow some books. She laughed a little at the thought, wondering how he would react if she really did that. Especially if she asked for books about pigs, it wasn't really the most romantic of subjects.

But of course she wouldn't dare to do it.

Edith sighed again. How much easier her life would have been if Anthony had only wanted to marry her, as he had led her to believe. Or perhaps - as she had led herself to believe.

Being married to him would definitely have facilitated her writing. Locksley's library was so much more useful than Downton's. The books in it were meant to be read, they weren't collected because they were valuable.

And she was sure Anthony would have encouraged her writing, not thrown cold water over everything she did, like Papa did. But then again she had been sure that Anthony would have married her, so what did she really know.

There was one thing, though, that made her glad that Anthony hadn't married her. If he had done that she wouldn't have Alice. She would perhaps have other children that she would love just as much but that didn't help. She knew she was irrational, she knew that if she had married Anthony and had children with him she wouldn't have wanted to exchange those children for an unknown Alice. But that just didn't matter.

She had Alice, she loved her. Alice had every right to exist. You can never regret a child that has actually been born.

...

Today was not a good day for Edith. Because this was not one of the days she would see Alice. She just couldn't go there every day, even if she wished that she could, but she had to be careful. Then again, on the days she went to see Alice she stayed there for many hours, discussing farming with Tim Drewe or just playing with the little girl and the Drewes' own children. Last time she had discussed how to make sausages and pies with Mrs Drewe for an article she was going to write. Alice had been fast asleep in Edith's lap for almost two hours as the two women were talking.

Edith was glad she had asked Tim Drewe to take care of her daughter. Because it was obvious that both he and his wife loved little Alice. They didn't only do it for the money, and none of them asked any questions or objected to Edith coming there as often as she liked.

Edith was so glad she had brought little Alice home. It eased her mind to see that the little one was both healthy and happy. It was so very different from when she had left little Alice in Geneva, expecting never to see her daughter again. That had really made Edith miserable. She had thought of Alice constantly, fearing that the Schröders wouldn't be good to her.

But now - every time she saw little Alice she was happy. Every time she played with her or spoon-fed her or held her in her arms. And she did see her a lot - it wasn't so different from having your child brought up by a nanny. Edith actually saw a lot more of Alice than Mary saw of George.

...

Cora took a walk to Tim Drewe's cottage when she was sure that Edith would stay working in the library for the rest of the afternoon. She had studied Edith's behaviour for some time. It seemed that she always went out just after breakfast on the days she was going to meet the farmer. If she was still in at this time of the day she was likely to stay at home. Especially if she was working on an article. Cora knew that Edith had to send her column in by the post next morning.

Cora had no idea of how she would find out about Edith and Tim Drewe. She only planned to go chatting a little with Mrs Drewe, talk about the weather, farming, children. Men. Women usually sensed that sort of thing, and Cora would probably be able to find out just by watching Mrs Drewe when she talked about her husband.

...

In the end it wasn't necessary for Cora to try to get some information out of Mrs Drewe, since the reason for Edith's sudden interest in pigs was sitting on a blanket on the grass outside the cottage, playing with a lid and a wooden spoon. Cora had a shock when she saw the little girl, feeling moved back in time more than 25 years. With the exception of the much simpler clothes, the little girl looked exactly like Edith had done at the same age.

Mrs Drewe, who had sat on a chair beside the blanket, preparing vegetables for the family dinner, got to her feet at once when she saw Cora. She took the child from the blanket, obviously wanting to hide it but realising it was too late. So she just stood there with the little one, looking very embarrassed.

"What is her name?" Cora asked, as if only making a polite enquiry.

"Alice", the woman answered. "She is six months old."

A long awkward silenced followed. Cora usually didn't have any problems finding things to say, but this had been so totally unexpected. But she smiled at Mrs Drewe and after that she smiled at the little girl, who gave her a shy toothless smile in return.

Cora took that as an encouragement.

"Please let me hold my granddaughter", she said with a smile. Without a word Mrs Drewe handed little Alice over to her.

...

Cora had a lot on her mind when she walked back to Downton. This was even a worse problem than if Edith was having an affair with Tim Drewe. That could have been ended in some way, but this couldn't. And Cora refused to give up her grandchild. It had been so lovely holding a baby in her arms again, George was becoming quite the big boy by now.

What could she do about all this? Cora wouldn't confront Edith about it, not today. She had to think it over carefully first. She really felt bad that her daughter hadn't dared to confide in her.

She definitely wouldn't tell anyone else about little Alice. Especially not Robert.

It was impossible to know how he would react. He wasn't the most sensitive of men. Nor was he the most sensible.

And how Lady Violet would react she didn't even dare to think about.

* * *

AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you for your kind reviews!

The text Edith reads in this chapter is taken from the entry about pig-breeding in the 1918 edition of the Swedish encyclopedia 'Nordisk Familjebok'. I have translated it into English myself. The language in the Swedish text is a little strange also.

Encyclopedias were the Internet of those days, the place to look up things you wanted to know.


	6. An Article about Pigs

When the Drewes had finished their tea that evening Mrs Drewe asked her husband to come outside for a talk.

All their children were busy inside the house. The two schoolboys, Timmy and Harry, ten and seven years of age, were doing their homework by the kitchen table. Twelve-year-old Lisa was sitting by the fire reading a bedtime story to her smallest brother Tom and her little sister Sarah, who were five and three.

Little Alice, their foster-child, was sleeping peacefully in her cot.

The cottage was small, so when the two grownups needed to talk in private they usually went outside the house. This time Tim thought his wife wanted to say something about one of their children, and there he was right. Well, almost, it wasn't really about one of _their _children.

"We have a problem with Alice", she said, going directly to the point, knowing that they could be interrupted by one of the children at any moment. "Lady Grantham came here this afternoon."

There was a silence while Mrs Drewe waited for this to sink in. Tim Drewe first realised that his wife obviously had understood who little Alice was, in spite of him trying to hide it from her. Then he realised that Lady Grantham probably had understood it as well.

...

When Mrs Drewe had told her husband all the details about her meeting with Lady Grantham, they were both silent for a while.

"Please don't let on to Lady Edith that you know", he said then. "And don't tell her that her mother knows, not unless she brings the subject up herself! Lady Edith told me Alice was the child of a dead friend of hers, someone her parents didn't approve of, but I thought it rather obvious from the start that it was her own baby. I made up the story about it being the child of a friend of mine, to have something to tell the neighbours. But I shouldn't have lied to you. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. But what are we going to do about all this?"

"Just take care of Alice. This is not for us to settle. But be prepared that she might not stay with us much longer."

"I will miss her, of course, she is such a little darling. But I have been prepared to lose her from the start. You can't really expect a granddaughter of Lord Grantham's to grow up in a cottage..."

She trailed off, wondering if she should tell him or if it was too early. Then she made up her mind. "And ... there is something I ought to tell you... I'm not quite sure yet, but I think I'm expecting another baby."

...

Edith was still busy with her pig-article, but her thoughts kept wandering away. She remembered how she had returned to Downton Abbey after fetching Alice in Switzerland. She had asked Tim Drewe and his wife to meet her with their lorry, at the railroad station before the one where she would get off herself and be met by her father's chauffeur.

Edith had been so worried. Worried about giving Alice away, worried that they wouldn't turn up. But they _had_ turned up and she had handed her baby and all its belongings over to them from the railway carriage. So Edith's little princess had returned to the land of her ancestors riding in the pig-lorry.

Perhaps she should put that in her article, she thought with a smile.

...

It was no use. Edith just couldn't write about pigs tonight, and she had to post her article tomorrow. Thinking about Alice and even more thinking about Sir Anthony had muddled up her brain. She couldn't make heads or tails of the pigs tonight, so to speak.

Luckily she had a couple of almost finished articles lying around. She could try to finish one of them instead. She got out one about a subject that had always been of interest to her mostly female readers. It just needed a short finishing touch then she could send it off.

She decided not to say anything about the missing pig-article. Perhaps no one of her readers would remember that she had promised to write one. Perhaps she could write one later on. Perhaps they would only be happy about reading about something else.

...

Sir Anthony was a bit surprised when he read the new number of the Sketch a week later. Lady Edith's article wasn't about pigs at all, and there was no explanation of why.

Sir Anthony was rather disappointed. Perhaps intending to write an article about pigs had only been a joke? He took out last week's article and read it through again, but if it was a joke it was too subtle for him to understand. Perhaps young people, those bright young things, had ways to joke that an old codger like himself couldn't understand. Some very impenetrable kind of irony.

This made him all the more sure that he had been right not to marry Edith.

The new article was about a subject Edith had written about before. The big surplus of women and the scarcity of men in postwar society. There had been a long discussion about this already in the papers and Sir Anthony hadn't paid much attention to it.

It wasn't as if he was in search of a wife. Those things were all in the past for him.

* * *

AN: Thank you for reading! Many thanks for all the kind reviews!

...

There was really a discussion in the English papers after the war about the surplus of women. It started with an article in the Daily Mail in 1920, with the headline 'A million women too many - 1920 husband hunt'.

A year later, the national census revealed that there were in fact not just one million more women than men, but almost two.

...

I gave the Drewes a whole houseful of children to make it easier for them to give up Alice when the time comes. I don't want anyone to be too sad in this story.


	7. Facts about Pigs

Very little happened at the Drewes' farm during the next few weeks while summer was slowly beginning to turn into autumn. Except that Mrs Drewe's suspicion that she might be expecting a new baby was changed into a certainty.

The only difference after Lady Grantham's visit was that Mrs Drewe now had two of the Ladies from the big house coming to her cottage regularly to play with little Alice. She was now visited by both the girl's mother and her grandmother. They never came at the same time. It seemed that the older woman knew when her daughter wasn't expected and choose those times for her own visits.

Mrs Drewe was used to Lady Edith by now, and had no difficulties getting on with her work while Edith was there. After a couple of visits she learned to accept Lady Grantham's presence in the same way. She politely asked Lady Grantham if she wanted a cup of coffee, which Cora invariably said no to. After that Mrs Drewe handed the baby over to Lady Grantham and then she got on with her own work.

Because there was a lot of work to attend to in a household with six children. There was the cooking of course, and the baking. The cleaning and the washing up. The mending and the washing of all the clothes. The little vegetable garden around the house to take care of. The hens and chickens to feed.

And, last but not least, feeding the Drewe's own two pigs.

Mrs Drewe couldn't afford to sit down doing nothing for very long, but she still didn't envy the Crawley women. With nothing much to do they must be bored stiff. And the situation they were in now, with the secret child and grandchild born out of wedlock, was certainly nothing to envy. She could see that they both loved Alice very much, that they wanted to be able to spend much more time with her, but also that they were both at a loss what to do about it.

Mrs Drewe was rather content with her life. She loved children, especially babies, and she had been blessed with quite a lot of them even though she hadn't married until she was nearly thirty. She would be forty-three when this new one was born, so she was fairly sure it would be her last one. So she decided to enjoy it as best she could, her pregnancies were usually easy.

...

Cora had known about Alice for some time now, but she still hadn't decided what to say to Edith. She had visited the Drewes several times, and grown to love her smallest grandchild more and more. She was sure Mrs Drewe loved Alice and was taking good care of her, although one could think she had enough with all her own children. Edith had made a good choice, except that little Alice couldn't be hidden at the estate for much longer before the truth would inevitably come out.

Cora hesitated to talk to Edith about Alice, because she could see no way out of Edith's dilemma. She wanted Edith to be able to keep Alice, she wanted herself to be able to see her granddaughter. But she didn't want a scandal.

So she just didn't do anything at all about it, hoping sooner or later to come up with a plan. Taking Edith and Alice to the States, perhaps?

Robert asked Cora once why she had started to take so many long walks. It wasn't really like her. But she just said something about the weather being so fine lately and that she enjoyed walking in the sun. The weather had really been unusually sunny, so she hoped he wouldn't suspect anything.

But the next time she wanted to visit Alice it was raining. She had to take an umbrella.

...

Edith needed more facts about pigs if she was to finish her article. But she had no idea where to get them.

But two days later she saw an advertisement in the paper. The pig-of-the-year exhibition was to be held a couple of weeks later. It was quite a bit away, but hopefully she could persuade Tim Drewe to go there with her. They could go in his lorry and bring Alice with them. Tim could drive and Alice could sit in Edith's lap. They would have a chance to spend the whole day together.

Then Edith could write about the exhibition and perhaps get an interview with the winner.

Or rather with the winner's owner, she thought with a smile. The winner himself would probably only grunt.

...

Argyll thought that Sir Anthony's idea of taking part in the pig-of-the-year competition was brilliant. He was of course paid to find Sir Anthony's ideas brilliant, or at least not utterly stupid, but this seemed genuine. He at once started talking about which of the pigs was most likely to stand a chance in the competitions.

All the grown-up pigs, the breeding-pigs, had names. There was no Empress of Locksley now, though there generally was one in each pig-generation. There was no Mr Brumble either, Sir Anthony had promoted his biggest hog to Sir Brumble.

...

"I'm sure it is only chicken-pox", Mrs Drewe said, being a little embarrassed to have the doctor come all the long way. "But I'm a little worried for the baby."

Dr Clarkson took a look at the Drewe's two youngest children. Yes, unmistakably. Chicken-pox.

"Where is the baby then?" he asked after washing his hands.

"Out in the kitchen. I put her cot there, to protect her...But..."

Clarkson took a good look at the little girl. There was something about her that he couldn't quite put his finger on. It was as if he had seen the little girl before, somewhere. But he was sure that little Sarah was the last of the Drewe's children he had helped deliver.

"How old is she?" he asked.

"Seven months."

"I'm sure she will be alright", Dr Clarkson said. "In fact, I'm sure she has already been infected, it is very contagious." He took a closer look under the child's frock, and there it was, just beneath the armpit, the tiniest little chicken-pox. That was the only one he could discover on her entire body.

He showed it to the mother. "They get it very mildly when they are as little as this. The older they are, the worse it becomes. It is worst for grownups, especially for men."

"Lucky that I and my husband have already had it when we were children then. And that the three older ones had it before these two were born. There's another thing, though. I'm pregnant. Can it be dangerous for the child?"

"No, not if you have already had it yourself."

...

"I can't seem to remember delivering this little one", Doctor Clarkson said with a frown before he left. "Or am I just getting old and forgetful?"

"No, you are right, you haven't delivered her", Mrs Drewe said with a rather nervous smile. "She is a foster child. The child of a deceased friend of my husband's. From another county."

"Ah, I see. That explains it", Clarkson said thoughtfully.

There was something suspicious about the child though. He was sure he recognised the little girl from somewhere. And why was the woman being so nervous about it all?

* * *

AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you for all the kind and interesting reviews!


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